From my window.

photo credit

It's a bit over cast today, but I can hear a sweet melody from the birdies perched  at my window.
It's a sound that I welcome with reverence. My whole life I have loved nature, but as I have grown I seem to appreciate it all the more. As I watch these two little grey and yellow fellows search out for some obscure object in the gutter right out my window, I try and be still as I can. In hopes that this rare moment will somehow be prolonged if I don't breath. I believe I shall name them, Finy and Oliver. The wind has a slight chill, and smells of rain, I know In a little wile I will be listening to the sound of rain patter. I am fortunate to have a great big window to the right of my desk. Where as an artist or when I'm stuck for some word that my mind knows but can't remember I look out to nature and get refreshed.
I'm a bit of a romantic, so I have a special ability to overlook the house right smack dab across the street. The one that's in desperate need of a paint job. The one that when I'm in a more human mood, sticks out against the trees like a big khaki thumb. But today is not that day.
From my window I see only trees, lush green fields and nature at its best. With spring here the trees are in a bright green bloom, there tiny leaves not yet formed. Yet I love this season for that reason, the soft colors that are mere suggestions. I always find myself wishing I could stop and stay in a perpetual spring. The mountains are flowering, but this year in more of a pink, than green. I thought that odd but have been too caught up in the soft blush to ask why. When a gift is given you just say thanks. And that's what I have been doing. All this month, a whisper of thanks has been constant on my lips to the Father who so lovingly created all this. For us. A masterpiece that is so in need to be enjoyed. I certainly have tried to enjoy it. Many rambled through the woods have blessed me to see the sudden change that happens. In one week new life springs from some hidden  shadow, into the light.
Like the dancers who wait  behind the stage curtain until there number is to be performed, spring was just waiting. And I can only speak for myself, but  it has a very happy audience member. I have marveled at the tiny curled sprouts of ferns. And wild flowers that seem to grow in the strangest places.  Perhaps its because of a book I'm not much interested in, or perhaps it's the strange feeling I get every spring that has propelled me out of doors. Into nature where I feel at home.
Perhaps later I shall get out my paints and try and capture the fleeting season. But for now I'm content to draw these thoughts and feelings in words here, and capture the images of spring in my mind where they will go on for an infinity. I hope your all having a lovely spring.
I know myself and Finy and Oliver  are enjoying it immensely. Now if I only knew what they were searching for in that gutter.
Drop me a note if you have time and let me know what your favorite part of spring is. Please do.